


Cover Me

by argentress



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Fluff, Head Shaving, Interviews, Trench Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 05:38:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20737094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentress/pseuds/argentress
Summary: “You guys, pretty famously, shaved your heads at the beginning of this era, as part of a trio of music videos. Any apprehension about doing that?”The question ends with him looking at Jos, his intention clear, but it’s Tyler who speaks up.





	Cover Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bemire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bemire/gifts).

> Because it’s inspired more than a little bit by their fic "to the bone, I'm evergreen." No matter the iteration or combination, they always find each other.

“You guys, pretty famously, shaved your heads at the beginning of this era, as part of a trio of music videos. Any apprehension about doing that?”

The question ends with him looking at Jos, his intention clear, but it’s Tyler who speaks up. 

“I mean, there was the chance I was gonna end up scalped in the middle of Iceland, but it would have been a hell of a visual.”

They all laugh and Jos hopes that might be the end of it, but this guy is persistent. 

“Still, Jos, you must have had a few misgivings, considering what a trademark your hair has become.”

* * *

“You want _me_ to do it?” Tyler’s eyebrows are raised so high Jos thinks they might disappear into his hairline.

She nods.

“Don’t we have a hair person who can do this? What if I fuck it up?” Tyler’s voice is getting high and tinny. Jos reaches out to cover his hand with her own, the electric razor glinting in the low light of the bathroom.

“I trust you.” She smiles at him, watching his shoulders loosen slightly. “Besides, it’s all coming off. It’s not like I’m looking for style or finesse here.”

Tyler laughs automatically, before his face grows serious again, looking at her plaintively. “Stop, this is a big deal.”

“It’s really not.” Jos gives him a small smile, and Tyler looks down at the razor again. “Tyler.”

He looks up at her, his eyes worried, and Jos puts a soft hand on his cheek. “I’m not gonna change my mind. So either you can shave it off, and make it mean something, or I’ll have someone else do it.”

He stares at her for a moment, before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

* * *

The interviewer looks at her expectantly, and Jos wishes she could sink into the floor. 

“A few, maybe.” She smiles awkwardly, knowing it’s what he wants to hear. Tyler’s looking at her but she doesn’t meet his eyes. She can handle this. 

She swallows. “But that’s also why I liked the idea. The more Tyler told me about Dema, and the Banditos, and what he was envisioning for the music videos the more it seemed like the right move for me.”

She gestures to Tyler. “He was planning to shave his head from the beginning, it being symbolic of him leaving Dema, and being free of its ideals, and it started to feel like that to me too. That shaving my head was freeing myself, not just from Dema, but the expectations put on me as a woman in the public eye. That I have to be pretty, or feminine, or adhere to the male gaze. That I can’t just be an artist, who’s music speaks for itself.”

* * *

Jos sits on top of the toilet in the tiny bathroom, a towel around her shoulders and under her feet. Tyler runs his fingers through her curls one more time, pausing as he reaches the end to take a fist full of them. Jos knows how much he loves them. He told her once that it was the first thing he liked about her, all that hair flying around her while she drummed. She could hide behind Tim all she wanted up on that stage with House of Heroes, but Tyler still saw her. Saw all that passion, all that energy that couldn’t be contained, and knew he just wanted to be near it.

To feel it radiating at him like the sun.

The clippers hum to life and Jos closes her eyes slowly as the cool metal touches her scalp. Tyler goes slowly, methodically, with a practiced hand. She can remember watching him, standing just past the camera, when they were shooting Car Radio. The emotion on his face, the emptiness in his eyes as the razor went back and forth over his skin. His whole body seemed to relax once the shot was over, once the weight was off his shoulders. Jos wants to feel weightless.

She opens her eyes briefly to look at him, to see the concentration on his face. His eyes are wet, like he’s thinking about crying but isn’t entirely aware of it. She knows it’s not _really_ because of the curls, they’ll grow back, and Tyler’s never been much concerned with appearances anyway. His or hers. It’s the feeling in the air, that she’s doing something important. That they’re starting something new and scary and unknown. But they’re doing it together.

Her hair fans out around her feet like a shadow, the darker part of herself. Jos looks at it, thinks about the person she was with it, how far she’s come. She needed it then, needed armour between her and everyone else, something to hide behind. Needed someone to see past it, to see her, to know that she was worth something. Jos glances up at Tyler again, his lip between his teeth as he slides the razor over her scalp. She doesn’t need that anymore. 

He sees her.

* * *

Tyler’s still looking at her, but Jos doesn’t have to meet his eye, she knows what she’ll see there.

“I didn’t want my appearance to be the only thing I was known for. I didn’t just want to be ‘the girl’ in twenty øne piløts. I wanted to be a Bandito. I wanted to be free.”

The interviewer is staring at her. Jos has a feeling it’s not the answer he was expecting, and he’s not quite sure how to continue. He clears his throat awkwardly, fiddling with the cards in his hands. “Well, can’t argue with that. You guys certainly aren’t afraid to take risks.”

Jos feels Tyler’s eyes slide from her face, landing on the interviewer. His gaze is steely. “No, we’re not.”

* * *

They always share a hotel room. It’s easier, cheaper, and Jos sleeps better. She’s half asleep when Tyler finally turns off the bedside light, sliding down between the sheets and pressing his face between her shoulder blades. Jos hums quietly, and Tyler pulls her close with an arm around her stomach. The only sound is their breathing, slow and measured, sleep pulling at them. Tyler places a soft kiss against her skin, and Jos lets out a sigh.

“You know why it’s you? Why you’re the leader of the Banditos?”

Jos hums a question.

“Because you’re my north star, Jos. When I feel lost, or unsure of myself, I look at you and it’s all clear. The way forward, the way through. The way back to being me.”

Jos turns over slowly, until they’re face to face. Tyler’s eyes are still closed, his arm loose around her, and Jos presses her forehead against his. Tyler sighs contently, his hands reaching out for curls and finding only peach fuzz. A small smile breaks out over his face as he palms her head, thumb rubbing softly back and forth. Jos mirrors him, fingers ghosting over his cheek and into his hair, blunt nails scratching over his scalp. 

“We’re the same now.” Jos whispers, his hair soft as velvet beneath her hands. 

His reply is quiet, swallowed up by the weight of the moment, standing on the edge and expecting to fly.

“We’re free.”


End file.
